One girl's journey making her fashion dreams come true in Bali…

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Dessert Island

I want roots to stand. For efforts that amount to whole. Minutes between tears and laughter compound after. Grilling the chills. Looking on for days. Discomfort is for lovers, who want the hunger to mother the lost.

Can we pick up pieces to see magic classics? Spoke to an old friend, boy had our lives gone somewhere unexpected. Recalling the past as a story for tramps. We dream on. Out of the mess untangling the threads. I walk on.

Without knowing who else will go. Alone on the plank, I skinny dive in. Anxious to breath I cannot see. The night is midnight collecting on shore. I swim with fright to land on cheek sand. I cough up lies that said you cannot. My arms stretch out for we hit land.